


Nothing about this means No

by jade_lil



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Drama & Romance, Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff and Smut, JunBa - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-16 16:32:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11256702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jade_lil/pseuds/jade_lil
Summary: OMG, I wrote something that it's not Ohmiya. :D





	Nothing about this means No

**Author's Note:**

> OMG, I wrote something that it's not Ohmiya. :D

  
“Is there something on my face?”   
  
Aiba lets that sink in, and smiles despite that familiarly huge hole gaping inside his chest. It feels too much sometimes, and Aiba worries his lungs might collapse on him again. There’s something even more worrying, but Aiba doesn’t dwell on it much in fear of losing himself in the process.   
  
He’s lost himself so many times in the past he’d already lost count.   
  
_Yeah_ , he wants to say, pushing himself up on his elbow so he can peer at Jun from this angle, let his gaze touch the parts his hands aren’t able to. Jun looks so beautiful like this – naked, disheveled, sated and relaxed on the bed, on Aiba’s bed, next to Aiba’s body.   
  
“Nothing,” he says; it came out a little raspy, a bit ragged, breathy, and Aiba loves the way Jun grins in answer. It makes him want to lean down and kiss Jun, picks up where they’ve left off but he holds himself still.   
  
“You don’t look at someone like that and say it’s nothing,” Jun retorts, though he’s copying Aiba’s stance and throwing his arm around Aiba’s middle. Aiba shivers – this always happens when Jun touches him, whenever Jun is close he could simply breathe him in – and finds himself pressing closer to Jun, closing the short distance between them to nuzzle Jun’s cheek.   
  
Jun hums, soft and indulging, and Aiba wishes it means something more. It probably doesn’t, but he wants to pretend anyway.   
  
“You’re beautiful,” he says the first thing that comes to mind, pulling Jun closer and watching the way the sheets try to cling onto Jun’s skin and failing. He watches, awed, aroused, as the fabric slides down Jun’s torso, feeling like he’s watching a fine piece of art as it is being unveiled before his eyes.   
  
His chest is heaving yet again when Jun mutters something that sounded like his name, but Aiba files it away quickly in favor of catching Jun around the back of his head and kissing him.   
  
  
++   
  
It’s not like he’s not aware of it because he is. Aiba’s not exactly that good at hiding his affection and Jun – Jun likes it enough to allow it.   
  
He takes Aiba’s face in his hands and kisses Aiba slow, and the noises Aiba makes go straight to Jun’s cock, stirring it into action. He’s not usually this eager to go again after his first orgasm, but with Aiba, he’s different.   
  
There are no rules, no expectations, nothing to bind Jun and his needs. Aiba gives way more than Jun deserves, and even when Jun thinks he couldn’t give anything anymore, Aiba goes and surprises him just the same.   
  
There are times when Jun thinks he won’t be able to survive being with Aiba, when Aiba’s on top of him and moving, taking whatever Jun is willing to give him. Sometimes it’s too much, sitting next to him and not talking knowing that he wants more and gives too little in return.   
  
“Slow down, god, I’m –“ Aiba rasps out, fingers tight on Jun’s hips, his long, black hair thrashing around the bedspread in a way that makes Jun want to paint him. He can’t paint though, but he wants to – he wants to preserve the image of Aiba likes this, mouth parted in a gasp as Jun moves above him, taking more of Aiba’s cock and squeezing around him.   
  
“Don’t come yet,” Jun pleads, cupping his own cock and bending till they’re almost nose to nose. Aiba uses the opportunity to press closer, pushing himself up on the mattress so he could meet Jun halfway for a kiss. “Masaki, don’t come yet.”   
  
Aiba groans, then allows himself to plop back on the bed as he fists the sheets. Jun likes him like this too, eyes squeezed shut and moaning, ankles bent in half as he takes more of Jun’s weight on him, his cock hard and throbbing inside Jun’s body.   
  
Jun feels like he’s flying.   
  
There are no words, nothing that could describe the way he’s crying out Aiba’s name when he pumps himself in time of his movements, hips meeting Aiba’s down as if he couldn’t get enough. Aiba’s face scrunches, and Jun finds himself laughing at how ugly Aiba looks then, but knowing how even that look is enough to keep him going.   
  
“Jun-chan, please, I need to –“   
  
“Thirty seconds,” Jun gasps, pumping himself harder, quicker; his knees are shaking something bad but he doesn’t let it deter him. The look on Aiba’s face is enough to make him want to do more, take more, and he will.   
  
“Fifteen,”   
  
“Shit, Jun, I’m –“   
  
“Masaki!”   
  
Aiba jerks from the bed, arms worming around his back to steady him, filling Jun upwards with such force that rattles them both and the bed. Aiba picks up where he left off, grounding up, groaning, moaning, one hand settling around the back of Jun’s head to keep him in place. Soon Aiba’s mouth is on him, kissing the air out of his lungs through his mouth and fucking him, and Jun stops counting.   
  
  
++   
  
The bruises left on his collarbones are much less glaring than the ones he has on his hips. Aiba can see them from his perch on the bed and his mouth waters at the sight of them, feels his finger tingle with the urge to touch, to mark Jun all over again.   
  
“It’s nothing a concealer won’t fix, don’t worry about it,” Jun mutters, staring at him through the mirror. He’s putting on his shirt now, the one Aiba relieved him off hours before and smiles.   
  
  
“I’m sorry I should have been more careful,” he says, his tongue thick in his mouth. It’s that time again when he has to let Jun go, when he has to watch Jun leave, out of his house and out of his life because he’s an idiot.   
  
“I said don’t worry about it,” Jun counters. He turns and Aiba is given a perfect view of him, hair styled perfectly again as if it hasn’t been messed up in the same place. Aiba wants to mess it up again, if only so Jun will stay to fix it again.   
  
He doesn’t.   
  
“Are you okay?” Jun asks; Aiba doesn’t even realize he said something until he finds Jun towering over him, until Jun finds his face and touches him. Jun never touches him like this after he’s been off the bed, once he has his clothes on again.   
  
Aiba feels like crying.   
  
“Yeah,” he says; it sounded like a lie even in his own ears. “Of course, why wouldn’t I be?”   
  
“Masaki, you’re crying,” Jun comments, voice low, his touch unbearably soft. Aiba doesn’t believe him.   
  
That is, until Jun crouches down and slides his fingers under Aiba’s eyes, brushing the wetness off his cheeks that Aiba finds himself sobbing inelegantly against Jun’s hand. It’s so hard, he doesn’t even know why he’s crying but well, that’s not true, is it?   
  
“I – I’m sorry,” he rasps out, breathes in deeply so as to calm himself down. It’s no easy feat, but Aiba does it anyway.   
  
“Why are you crying?”   
  
Aiba shakes his head. “PMS?”   
  
Jun hits him lightly on the head. “You’re not a girl, stupid. Tell me what’s happening.” Jun says, his hold firm and his tone even more so. Aiba shakes his head.   
  
“Stress? Emotional? Maybe I need to see a shrink –“   
  
“You always cry when I leave,” Jun says, cutting Aiba off completely. “I hear you, every single time I close the door behind me.” Jun admits, slow, careful, and it only makes the hole in Aiba’s chest feels like it doubled in size.   
  
“Tell me something,” Jun says, arms falling companionably around Aiba’s hips. “What does this mean to you?”   
  
Aiba tries not to act stupid but it’s difficult. “This?”   
  
Jun chuckles and pinches Aiba’s hip. “This. Us.”   
  
Aiba feels like he’s missing something but he guesses Jun feels the same way that’s why he’s asking. Maybe, he needs Aiba to be honest.   
  
Aiba can do honesty, he’s good at that, sure. “The sex or –“ he pauses, staring Jun in the eyes. “us?”   
  
Jun smiles, just a small one, but it’s enough to light up even the darkest crevices of Aiba’s life.   
  
“Both,” Jun says.   
  
“Oh,” Aiba breathes, his chest heaving yet again. How can he even categorize it without sounding like a total moron? Can he do it? Does he have the right words for it?   
  
“I thought it was just for fun,” he starts, watching Jun and Jun’s reaction but Jun stays where he is, his expression unreadable. “at first, I didn’t think it could be – more.”   
  
“And?”   
  
Aiba thinks about it seriously. He’s thought about this before, has come up with so many different scenarios in his head, most are scary than others. He’s scared – and it’s not to say that the main thing he’s terrified of is losing Jun.   
  
“I want this,” he says, bravely reaching over to touch Jun, cupping Jun’s jaw tenderly. He feels perfect, and Aiba wants him all to himself. “and you, together. And I want more. Not just when we feel like doing it.”   
  
Jun looks at him then, really looks at him, and it scares Aiba more than he lets on. This is where it all ends, he thinks, where everything ends; no Jun to touch, to hold, to kiss, it’s all over before it even begins because he’s an – “Me too,”   
  
“Eh?”   
  
Aiba watches as Jun plops his head on his lap, watches as Jun’s hand finds his, squeezing. Aiba squeezes back, confused, maybe relieved.   
  
What?   
  
“I thought we – I mean, I didn’t think you’d – you know, it never occurred to me that you actually –“   
  
“Like you?” Aiba asks; it’s obvious that Jun is having a hard time saying the words Aiba has spent months to believe himself. “But I do, Jun-chan. I really do.” Aiba says, suddenly brave. He finds himself running his fingers through Jun’s hair, the way he did earlier, but in a completely different reason.   
  
Aiba wants to continue doing it.   
  
For the rest of his life, if it’s possible.   
  
Jun groans into Aiba’s pants. “You could have save us both the misery, you know?” Jun says, and now Aiba feels like crying all over again. “You could have, I don’t know, said something before? I thought you were crying because you felt like I was using you or something!”   
  
Aiba snorts – it sounded wet and disgusting and funny. Jun raises his head from his lap, probably to make sure he’s not slobbering over Jun’s hair or something.   
  
Aiba really, really loves him.   
  
“Contrary to what you think, Matsujun, I value my life,” he says, shakily, finding Jun’s chin. “I didn’t think you’d ever like me that way so why would I risk my life telling you I like _you_ that way? I’m not crazy.” He says. “Well, I guess now you know that I actually am crazy, because I _do_ like you that way, but that’s not really –“   
  
Jun surges up from the floor and mashes their mouths together so fast their teeth click, but Aiba welcomes the gesture wholeheartedly.   
  
“God, shut up and take me back to bed, you jerk,” Jun moans into his mouth, pushing him back to the bed and straddling him. Aiba grins and reaches up to take Jun’s face in between his hands, chest close to bursting with happiness he doesn’t even know he deserves.   
  
“Gladly, Matsun,”   
  
“Oh god, shut up.”   
  
He smiles.


End file.
